


Sanctification

by glasscentury



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Angst, F/M, Gun Violence, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 15:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16684483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasscentury/pseuds/glasscentury
Summary: Chanyeol had been in the business his whole life. But with the anger of hell itself hunting you down, could he still keep you safe?





	Sanctification

The miles were endless, and the constant sound of the engine wore on your sanity. Sometimes it sang you to sleep like a mechanical lullaby, other times it kept you awake and irritated you beyond belief, each pull of the pistons and whirr of combustion like a modern water torture.

Today you had started on the road early in the morning, too early for your likes, and you rested your head on the shoulder of your seat. You watched the pavement of the highway disappear underneath the vehicle, the yellow painted lines being consumed by the monster you were riding in. It didn’t take long for your eyes to flutter closed underneath the weight of your exhaustion. You heard a soft chuckle from the driver’s seat, but you ignored it as sleep took you.

Time was irrelevant as you entered the peace of your dreamscape. Here your hands stopped hurting, and your bones stopped aching, the pain was unable to reach you. Until you were woken up by the engine stopping and the jingle of the keys in the ignition.

You tried to stay still so that maybe even feigning sleep would bring you back to rest, but the seatbelt buckle beside you was undone before any progress could be made.

A large weight shifted on the leather seat and a presence gently removed the seatbelt from you. Soft lips pressed on your cheek, warm fingers brushing back your hair. 

‘Wake up,’ a deep voice said quietly. 

You finally stirred and blinked slowly as Chanyeol came into focus.

He looked down at you seriously, crouched over you and half in your lap.

You reached up to brush his cheek, to try to reconcile his handsomeness with reality, but Chanyeol caught your hand in his.

He held it carefully between his own large ones, examining the bandage wound around in tight, even rounds your palms.

‘We should change this,’ he said. ‘They should have more supplies in the convenience store.’

‘We just changed it last night,’ you said, dreading the thought of going through another painful ordeal. ‘It’ll be fine until later.’

He didn’t argue, but you could see the disagreement clearly on his face. Chanyeol leaned forward and kissed you before letting go and getting out of the driver’s side. His boots hit the gravel of the parking lot with a thud.

You blinked into the bright sunlight to make out the small roadside diner and gas station outside. You yawned and sat up.

Chanyeol, already on your side of the truck, tapped on your window impatiently. He cracked open the door and peeked over the edge of the grey metal.

‘You should eat,’ he said. Normally he would have smiled as he said it, but today Chanyeol carried himself like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. You hadn’t seen that fragment of joy on his face for what felt like a long time, although you couldn’t fault him.

You nodded and reached for the door to hang onto to climb down, but Chanyeol huffed and switched your grip to his arm. 

He braced as you stepped down from the truck. It was a short hop down for him, but getting down from the beast was an adventure every time for you.

Even when you were already on the ground, Chanyeol tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow, closing the door behind you.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ he asked.

‘I’ll sleep better when you start to sleep again,’ you said, looking regretfully at the dark circles under his eyes.

Chanyeol shook his head.  __

‘I sleep just fine.’ 

The door to the diner made loud tinkling sounds as Chanyeol opened it, but no one inside bothered to look up from their tables.

‘Sit wherever you please,’ a waitress behind the counter said loudly. She poured coffee for several truckers grouped together at the end of the bar.

Chanyeol squeezed your hand and led you to a booth in the far corner of the diner, staying put for you and obnoxiously helping you slide into your side. He swung around and sat in front of you. 

In the sunlight pouring through the greasy windows, his tiredness was even more apparent and you sighed to see it.

‘You don’t sleep at all,’ you said, bringing back the argument.

You could recall how he tossed and turned on the bed behind you through the night. It had begun right after he had rescued you from Sooman’s trap, and every night seemed the same or worse. Chanyeol would doze for a time before he jolted awake. He would lie still, his breathing was erratic. Sometimes he would swing an arm and leg over you, cradling himself against you to try to find some measure of comfort.

You wanted to help him, but Chanyeol wasn’t one for talking about his problems. He continued to deny everything.

‘I sleep enough,’ he said, punctuating his point with a yawn.

You sighed and studied the menu. None of it sounded appealing.

Chanyeol traced your knuckles lightly as he sat back, staring blankly at the vinyl covered table. 

‘Can I grab your orders?’ The waitress came up with tray and a pot of coffee.

‘Just coffee,’ you said, shoving the mug that was already on the table towards her.

Chanyeol snapped out of his funk and the look he shot you spoke more than words. 

‘The special, please,’ Chanyeol said. He nodded as she filled his own mug with goodness.

‘Sure, honey,’ the waitress said with a tone of autonomy. She turned on her heel, filling mugs as she walked back towards the kitchen.

‘You need to eat,’ Chanyeol said. He lowered down to meet your gaze. His hand covered yours and he squeezed firmly.

‘You need to sleep,’ you retorted. You shrugged and threw yourself back against the seat like a small child throwing a tantrum. You pulled your hands out of his grasp and crossed your arms.

‘I’m not what’s important here,’ he said. His expression turned stern. ‘I-,’ Chanyeol took a deep breath as he struggled for the right words. ‘I need you to be okay. I need you healthy. I need – I need you.’ What he had wanted to say was finally out of his mouth, and he crashed forward across the table. His long arms reached easily to undo the knot you had created with your own arms. Chanyeol pulled you forward with an urgency, his fingers tangling in yours. His eyes rounded and his stern look melted into a sadness that was impossible to beat back.

‘Please eat,’ he whispered lowly.

A few moments later, the waitress returned with his plate and the coffee pot that seemed to be just another extension of her being.

You sighed and nodded.

The plate she placed in front of him was a hearty assortment of eggs, bacon, and toast, and it smelled wonderful. Your stomach rumbled annoyingly.

‘Can I just get some toast? Sourdough,’ you said. You played with a napkin nervously as you spoke.

He nodded and gave you a tiny smile, silent approval.

‘Of course, honey, I’ll get that right out to you,’ she said with a cheerful smile. She refilled Chanyeol’s coffee and went back to relay your order. The heels of her shoes clicked on the cracked turquoise linoleum.

‘Thank you,’ said Chanyeol softly.

He let go of you reluctantly to start on his breakfast, and you sipped your coffee while you watched him.

‘Where are we going anyway?’ you asked.

He swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs and washed it down before speaking.

‘We’re lying low,’ he said. He wrapped a piece of bacon around his fork. ‘You need to heal.’

‘That doesn’t answer where we’re going,’ you said. You fiddled with the gauze on the back of your hand. Why did it have to be so itchy?

Chanyeol dropped his fork with a clatter and grabbed the hand you were scratching.

‘Is it bothering you?’ He turned your hand to examine your palm, adjusting the bandaging that he had done himself. ‘There’s meds in the glovebox if it hurts.’ Chanyeol carefully fixed it up and made it tighter.

‘It’s just itchy,’ you complained.

You sat back as the waitress brought your toast and of course, refilled your coffee.

‘That’s good. That means it’s healing,’ Chanyeol said with a smile. He lifted your hand gently and kissed the back of it sweetly. ‘Now eat.’

He released you and pointed down at the small pile of toast. There was no more arguing with him and you gingerly picked up the first piece.

You realized in dismay that there was no butter and reached for one of the packets of peanut butter in the basket against the window. You winced as you tried to pinch the tear-off corner of the lid between your fingertips, the wounds in your palm pulsing and stinging.

Chanyeol looked up from his bacon with concern.

‘I’m fine,’ you said quickly, trying to play it off.

‘Here.’ He snatched the packet away and tore the lid off. Without asking, he took your toast as well, evenly spreading the peanut butter. ‘Eat,’ ordered Chanyeol firmly, handing you the slice.

You glared at him defiantly.

‘I can do some things myself,’ you said. There was a sharp edge to your voice.

‘I’m not giving you an excuse to not eat. Now shut up and eat your toast,’ Chanyeol said.

You were still murdering him with your eyes as you ate, but you ate nonetheless, chewing as you glared.

Chanyeol didn’t care what you thought of him and continued to spread peanut butter on the next slice as you worked on one he had already finished.

‘Wait until Sooman finds out,’ you muttered. ‘Tough badass hunter Chanyeol spreads peanut butter on toast for his girlfriend. Beneath the leather jacket is actually the softest plushie known to man.’

He scoffed and put down the knife. You saw the façade almost crack at your attempt at humour.

‘I should drop you off at your parents’ house,’ he said.

‘That’s what you did last time and I still got snatched,’ you said. The peanut butter stuck hard and fast to the roof of your mouth. ‘I’m staying with you.’

Chanyeol sighed and picked up his fork, poking at his now cold breakfast. 

You finished your own and emptied your coffee mug. You sat back and watched him with a smile. You were one of the lucky ones. Not many of the innocents that Sooman went after lived to tell their stories. But you had him – you had Chanyeol, and with him you were always safe. It was a deeply rooted belief in your core that you could trust him with your whole being.

He stood to pay, and you got up to wander the convenience store next door.

You picked out some food for the road, a few newspapers to entertain Chanyeol with, and some hygiene essentials that you were low on. You went to pay for things at the checkout when the man himself intercepted.

He coughed and placed a roll of gauze and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on the counter beside your selections.

You groaned, even as Chanyeol pulled out his wallet.

‘We don’t need those,’ you whispered. You watched hopelessly as the cashier put the forlorn items in a bag.

‘We’re changing the bandages whether you like or not,’ said Chanyeol. He paid and took the bags without looking at you. 

You followed him out to the truck and climbed in, still pouting.

He deposited the bags in the back seat before coming back with the things he needed. Chanyeol looked at you expectantly, holding out his hand.

‘Come on,’ he said, his voice low and soft in the shelter of the truck. ‘Just get it over with, ok? Just give me your hand.’

You shook your head. 

Chanyeol ran his fingers through his hair, groaning in frustration.

‘Why do you have to make this hard? Why do you have to fight me every time I try to take care of you?’ he said.

‘I’m used to being strong all on my own,’ you said. You knew you sounded childish, but pride and strength were important to you. 

Chanyeol leaned forward and caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

‘But you’re not strong right now, you’re hurt,’ he said. He looked down at you seriously. ‘You need to rely on someone, and that’s going to be me. Now let me take care of you.’

You blushed as he pulled at your wrist, but you let him take it anyway.

Carefully and tenderly, Chanyeol unwrapped your hand, peeling back the layers of gauze and cotton. 

‘Here we go,’ he said softly. He dabbed at the rough stitches across your palm, making you wince at the stinging sensation of the peroxide. ‘This isn’t so bad, huh?’

You hated the burning feeling, and you bit your lip to keep from making any sound that acknowledged your discomfort. Your eyes closed, your head leaning back against the window. You tried not to think about the sharp barbed wire that had caused your injury. You focused instead on the warmth of his hand as it held yours, the careful dexterity he showed as he applied a new bandage and rolled the strip of gauze over it.

‘There,’ said Chanyeol. 

You opened your eyes to see the nearly perfect bandage. The pain still echoed through the nerves in your hand, but the sharp edges of it were beginning to subside.

Chanyeol regarded you pleasantly.

‘Thank you,’ you said softly. You knew you had made a huge ordeal out of nothing. ‘Thank you for taking care of me.’

He nodded and came forward, his lips catching yours. His fingers tangled in yours gently as Chanyeol kissed you, his need to feel affection overcoming his restraint.

For that single moment, the pain was gone, the memory of the fear you felt melted away to nothing as he pressed himself against you. You felt safe and whole, and that feeling was irreplaceable. 

Chanyeol pulled away before you were ready, and you wrapped yourself around him to draw him closer.

‘We have to get going,’ he whispered. 

‘Just one more,’ you pouted.

‘You’re so needy.’ Chanyeol came back down with a chuckle. The sound was as healing as any medicine. You memorized the sound as he kissed you one last time before retreating to the driver’s side of the truck.

‘You still didn’t tell me where we’re going,’ you said, casually bringing the topic up again. 

‘An old friend’s place,’ said Chanyeol. He offered no further explanation before he pulled over to the gas pumps across the parking lot.

‘I didn’t know you had friends.’  

You stared absentmindedly out the windshield as he got out to fill the tank. You watched a man get out of a green hatchback in front of you, making his way around to the pump without much note – until he got to the back of his car. The man froze and faced you, or where you sat in the truck.

Your breath stuck in your throat as he winked at you. You saw them now – his eyes coal black – and he grinned evilly to match. You shook your head to try to refocus your vision in case you were seeing things, but as you looked again, the man was still there. But he definitely wasn’t a man.

You cracked open the truck door and climbed down to stand beside Chanyeol, trying to shelter yourself from the black gaze.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked. He didn’t complain as you tucked yourself against him underneath his arm. ‘What are you doing?’

‘There was – um,’ you mumbled as you scrambled for words. How much alarm, if any, should you raise? He was already not sleeping, was it a good idea to bring something that may not be a threat at all to his attention? You could only make things worse.

You stood on your toes to peek over the hood of the truck.

‘What?’ Chanyeol repeated insistently. His hand on your back steadied you.

But the man was gone. Even the car he drove had disappeared. Were you just seeing things now?

‘It’s nothing,’ you said quietly. ‘I just scared myself, that’s all.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Chanyeol. ‘You scared me too.’ He laid a kiss on the top of your head and paid for the fuel before helping you back into your seat.

The drive resumed before long. You watched the world fly by outside as Chanyeol floored the accelerator. The trees all flowed into each other, the split log fences all seemed like they were the same fence. 

Your thoughts wandered back to the friend he spoke of. You had never met anyone from Chanyeol’s life before, and you were curious. He didn’t like to talk about his family, but you made a good guess that their story wasn’t a nice one. He hadn’t mentioned anyone else in his line of work either.

‘This friend of yours,’ you opened the conversation. ‘Who is he, exactly?’

‘We used to work together when I was still a rookie. It’s been a long time,’ Chanyeol said. He tapped the steering wheel in a steady rhythm. ‘He’ll like you.’

‘That’s all I’m gonna get, isn’t it?’

He reached a hand over to your knee and pushed you playfully.

‘You should rest,’ he said.

‘You’re always telling me what to do,’ you teased, curling up and nudging him with your foot. 

Chanyeol only squeezed your knee in response. He flicked on the radio and returned his attention to the highway.

The combination of the music playing, the engine whirring softly, and the warm touch on your leg was more than you needed to slowly nod off.

The trip to Chanyeol’s mystery destination took the rest of the day; the sun was starting to set as the truck pulled into an unmarked gravel-coated driveway. 

The path disappeared into the dense brush ahead in its length, until it finally emerged into a wide clearing in the woods. A house verging on a mansion had been set at its centre. The building’s architecture was distinct compared to the small towns that surrounded it, and a distinctly gothic air ebbed from it.

‘Holy shit,’ was all you could say as you climbed down from the truck. ‘I didn’t know you were friends with Dracula.’

‘Ha. Ha. Ha,’ came Chanyeol’s sarcastic laughter. He grabbed your bags from the bed of the truck, swinging both yours and his across his back. ‘I would let me do the talking at first,’ he suggested. He brought a heavy arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the front door together.

Your eyes were still heavy with sleep, and your stomach growled to remind you how long it had been since breakfast. Chanyeol wasn’t a big fan of making pit stops, a characteristic that made you think of your peanut butter toast with fondness. You took a deep breath as Chanyeol knocked on the door.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you waited for an answer. The arm on your shoulders kept you secure, even though you weren’t sure why you felt apprehensive. 

Chanyeol knocked again, and you heard the frustration in the increased force on the door.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ a voice called from inside.

The door opened and a pair of eyes peeked out carefully from a mop of black hair.

‘Chanyeol?’ He opened the door wider to completely reveal himself. He was much smaller than Chanyeol, his appearance not fitting the grandiosity of his dwelling. A navy blue bathrobe covered his torso, matched by sky blue flannel pajamas. 

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ said Chanyeol. ‘Us, I mean.’ He motioned to you. ‘Junmyeon, I swear I called ahead and spoke to you about this. I told you we were coming.’

‘Right, right, the girlfriend who got kidnapped by the demon king,’ he nodded. He stepped back and held the door open for you.

Chanyeol nudged you forward to enter first.

You nodded and introduced yourself as you crossed the hearth. Junmyeon returned the gesture and shot Chanyeol a look.

Junmyeon led the two of you inside and locked the door behind you.

‘There’s a big suite upstairs and to the left, if you wanted to set your stuff down,’ he offered. He pointed up the large staircase at the centre of the foyer. ‘Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We can talk then.’

‘Thank you, again. We owe you,’ Chanyeol said gratefully. He took your hand and led the way. 

Following the directions you had been given, you easily found the room. 

The bedroom was even bigger than you had pictured originally, complete with its own living room setup and stone fireplace.

‘How does he afford to live in a castle like this if he’s a hunter?’ It was the first question that spilled from your mouth as Chanyeol closed the door and you had some privacy.

‘Junmyeon specializes in a certain skillset that, unlike other hunters, he doesn’t provide for free. But it’s better than another fleabag motel,’ he said. Chanyeol set the bags at the edge of the bed and sank down into the large recliner by the fireplace. He sighed loudly.

‘Of course.’ You smiled sadly at his obvious exhaustion and climbed into his lap, straddling his legs. He embraced you firmly.

You traced the tired lines of his face and his eyes fluttered closed at your touch. 

‘You should sleep more,’ you said softly.

Chanyeol’s hands slid up your back slowly, feeling each of your curves tenderly. He found the back of your neck and gently guided your face down to his. His kiss found yours easily, and he held you in place tenderly.

It started off as a sweet gesture that took no time at all to ignite into something else, like dry straw held to a flame. 

He inhaled heatedly, his tongue slipping out between your lips to measure your response.

You smiled into the kiss and opened wider for him.

Chanyeol pushed forward eagerly, exploring you with a deep hunger. His fingers raked down to grip your thighs tightly and pulled you closer. 

Your mouth preoccupied with containing him, barely able to return the affection he generously doled out, you pushed the worn black leather jacket off his wide shoulders. You fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, growling in frustration as your hand made the task impossible.

Chanyeol retreated to catch his breath, his broad chest heaving under your palms. His eyes widened as he squeezed your thighs.

It only took you brushing your lips against the corner of his mouth for the frenzied feeling to be renewed. You had to be closer, you needed to be underneath these layers that separated you from Chanyeol. The desire consumed you.

You traced kisses down the side of his jaw, adding sharp nips of your teeth as you worked underneath his earlobe.

Chanyeol groaned softly, his voice rich and low. He moved his own grip to your lower back, another hand combing through your hair.

You pulled away and sank to the floor in front of him with no hesitation. Your knees bent comfortably on the high pile carpet. Chanyeol gazed down at you wondrously.

It was difficult to undo the heavy buckle of his belt, and your cut stung as you tried to dig your fingers between the layers of leather. You winced, unfortunately visibly, and Chanyeol intervened.

‘Let me,’ he said, his voice heavy. 

He pulled the buckle apart with a determined dexterity, and you watched as he undid his jeans hurriedly. Chanyeol lifted himself and pushed them down to his ankles, setting himself back down before he nodded.

You studied him as your unhurt palm met the burgeoning hardness through the cotton of his underwear, his lip disappearing between his teeth. It was his turn to watch you as you pulled down the elastic waistband and wrapped your fingers around his solid length. You used your spare arm to push his thighs apart so you could settle in between them.

Chanyeol hissed as your tongue met his tip, torn between wanting to throw his head back and wanting to watch himself disappear into your mouth. 

You licked and kissed the head of his cock carefully, rewarding yourself with the hitching in his breathing and his tightening grip in your hair. You tried to start small strokes at his base, but it was your left hand that was available to you, and you felt yourself fumble uselessly, your cheeks red with blushing.

Chanyeol scooped his fingers under yours and circled his fingers around himself, holding steady for you.

You hollowed your cheeks as you took him in and sucked greedily. You hummed and slurped around his cock, the vibrations extracting lovely soft moans from his throat.

Chanyeol’s hand around his circumference began to move, and something stirred in your core as he explored himself knowledgeably in front of you. His wrist twisted and skin skated over skin and Chanyeol’s length pulsed rewardingly against your tongue. He dropped a heavy moan to match, music to your ears.

Chanyeol shifted and groaned loudly when you hollowed your cheeks and the back of your throat met his tip. A pleasure-laden ‘Oh shit, babe,’ fell from his lips as you bobbed and sucked, taking him in deep.

His heart pounded, you felt the lightning fast pulse in his thighs. His head fell back and his mouth opened wide, curses and lustful blessings alike tore from Chanyeol’s throat as you worked your magic. The room filled with the noise he was making, lost in the pleasure you gave him.

His thighs tensed under your hands and his breathing became completely erratic. His strokes became sloppy and short, his grip on himself rough.

‘Babe,’ his words were rooted in deep tones, soaked in the desperation to reach his peak. 

You sucked hard and slurped, releasing his cock with a  _ pop _ that made you smile even as you caught your breath.

‘Close?’ you whispered, laying gentle kisses on his thigh.

Chanyeol nodded breathlessly, the sweat pouring down his forehead.

You panted lightly as you peeled his fingers from his cock, using the flat of your tongue to taste him from base to tip. The resulting moan dripped with sin; you could taste the salt that ebbed from his skin.

Chanyeol’s eyes rolled back, and he gave himself over to your pleasure, his knuckles white around your wrist. His grasp on you trembled and you knew he was on the edge.

A sharp rap on the door startled you, and Chanyeol whined painfully as you pulled off of him in surprise.

‘When you’re done with that blowjob, meet me in the basement,’ Junmyeon’s voice permeated the barrier of the door. ‘And hurry up.’

You waited for the sound of his footsteps leaving before looking up at Chanyeol in embarrassment.

He tried to smile, to encourage you, but he whimpered instead, thrusting his hips forward demonstratively.

‘Please!’ he managed, pushing himself against your hand.

Your face flushed, but he pulsed as he found home in your hands. 

It didn’t take much for Chanyeol to find his release, perched on the edge as he was. A few more firm strokes, wet kisses down his base, and he groaned your name richly, coating his own thighs in his release.

You stroked him a few more times before standing quickly, flustered by having been found out. You made to leave to find tissues, toilet paper, or anything that could possibly clean up the mess you made, but Chanyeol grabbed you. 

‘Just…just wait,’ he panted. The dampness of his chest permeated his shirt, every exhale was like a puff of steam. He trembled slightly as he reached for you, clumsily pushing back your hair. 

‘We have to clean up,’ you said, trying to pull away, but Chanyeol insisted, bringing your face down to his.

In that last tender kiss, he made you feel all the affection that you planted into him, the taste of sweat and lingering testosterone on his lips.

‘I love you,’ he whispered before releasing you.

You smiled weakly, turning to search the suite for what you needed. You eventually found a box of tissues in the bathroom and hurried back.

Chanyeol splayed out in the recliner, exposed and exhausted. His eyes closed as he tried to recover.

You felt a strange sense of pride at your handiwork as you dabbed and wiped at his thighs and the small bits on his abdomen.

‘You didn’t say it back,’ he mumbled, his fingertips finding your arm.

‘Hmm?’ You continued to work, moving to the other thigh.

‘I said that I loved you,’ he said as he took a deep breath. ‘You didn’t say it back.’

You snorted and tugged at the heap of denim and cotton around his ankles.

‘You know I love you,’ you said. 

Chanyeol sat forward and took the waistbands from you, stealing the opportunity for another kiss.

‘I’m not used to being the only soft one between us,’ he said. His expression pleaded with you wordlessly, and you found yourself giving in.

‘Chanyeol,’ you began, smiling as your happiness overcame the flutter of embarrassment. ‘I love you.’

‘There,’ he said. A tiny smile played at his features, soon becoming all the reward you needed. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

He kissed you once more, your nose flattening against his. Chanyeol chuckled as he stood and dressed.

You hurried yourself to make yourself presentable, to hide any obvious signs of your activity.

Chanyeol stood by the door and waited until you were ready; you nodded and followed him downstairs.

Junmyeon had made it easy to find the basement door, leaving it the only one wide open. The atmosphere of the whole mansion seemed to change instantaneously. The suburban drywall changed into a cold subway tile, lit by harsh fluorescence.

‘What is this?’ you asked. You placed a steadying hand on Chanyeol’s back as you walked down the last set of stairs, descending into the unknown.

‘He’s a fan of security,’ he said. 

He led you through another open door into a long rectangular room.

‘No shit,’ you said, the words falling from your mouth as you stared in wonder at the small munitions wonderland before your eyes.

Weapons hung on hooks covered every inch of space on the wall, rifles, revolvers and shotguns. Boxes of ammunition lined open shelves above them, spanning the perimeter of the room. In the middle of the room stood an island with neatly sorted hand tools as well as an assortment of every type of knife imaginable.

‘That didn’t take you long,’ said Junmyeon, entering with two mugs of coffee and a plate of sandwiches.

Chanyeol huffed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders protectively. He dragged the plate across the island towards you.

‘Eat,’ he said quietly.

‘So this is her, huh?’ Junmyeon said. ‘The girl you risked everything for?’

You took one of the sandwiches and bit into it.

‘I appreciate you taking us in,’ Chanyeol said, changing the subject. ‘I can never thank you enough.’

Junmyeon nodded, crossing his arms. 

‘While you’re here, I do have a small problem that needs taking care of.’

‘Are you talking about a hunt?’ Chanyeol took a large draught of his coffee.

‘It’s not defying the king of hell himself, but I could still use another hand on this,’ said Junmyeon. He brought a stack of papers from the other side of the room and threw them down in front of you.

‘Let’s get started,’ Chanyeol said.

  
  



End file.
